


What He Knows

by Mari999



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Disabled Character, M/M, Tyson is a writer, alternate universe- not a hockey player, relationship tag added, this is kinda a mess and i don't what i am going to do with it, who knows if it will stay the same or if it will be changed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-10-16 12:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari999/pseuds/Mari999
Summary: We all know there is going to be bumps in our road before we get to where we are going, but no one expects that life is going to be one speed bump after speed bump. Tyson life is a highway of speed bumps.





	1. Chapter 1

We all know there is going to be bumps in our road before we get to where we are going, but no one expects that life is going to be one speed bump after speed bump. It sometimes means getting rejected from all of the writing MFA programs you apply for and all of your stories being turned away from publications. It’s not Tyson’s fault that his life is this sad, but that’s just the way it is he guesses. Things aren’t too bad he guesses. He may not live a glamorous life, but he still got a roof over his head, so it’s enough for him.  


He shares an apartment with a guy he met on Craigslist, so it isn’t too bad. The guy, Steven is never home because his girlfriend has got a nice place in Portland, so he usually stays there. He doesn’t mind the run-down apartment in Beaverton; it’s cheap enough and close enough for him not to have to pick up an extra job. He does have two, the one at the used book store and the one teaching teens the art of writing fiction. He loves both of them.  


Tyson likes the area, it’s strange, and he thinks it fits him. The crazy Oregon ways scare him a little, but he has adapted to the rain, berks, beers, and beards. He doesn't really know what is keeping him in the area, but hell he doesn't have to go back home, so he is fine. It isn’t that he doesn't like home, he quite likes it. He loves his family, but home is also well home.  


He doesn't want to be the guy that comes back home after trying to live this amazing life but couldn’t get there. He hasn’t given up on grad school yet or even a work getting accepted to a journal. The rejection letters scatter the walls of his room as motivation to keep trying. Tyson knows that one will accept him someday, but that still is just someday.  


Work is slow as always. It is usually just the same hipsters that come into gather some books or even the occasional tourist that wants to take pictures for Instagram. He does like it when he gets some college students that come up to the city because they tend to be fun. It’s almost like coming into Portland is special for them, and he can understand why. It’s just special.  


He has had some girls come in earlier to take pictures with the books. He doesn’t mind neither does the owner of the place. She figures that they might get a book or two. The girls pose on the ladder that is mostly decoration, but Tyson does use it sometimes when he is too lazy to grab the real ladder for the high up shelves.  


The shop does have some fun energy around it. It looks almost like a mad man study at times because no one bothers to clean up the stacks of books. He thinks that’s what draws people in. They can escape into the novels; they can be taken too far off lands which Tyson likes the most. He likes books with an adventure even if he doesn’t write stuff like that. He likes his short stories that portray suffering and heartbreak. Tyson mostly takes from his own life. They do tell you to write what you know, so that’s what he does.  


He used to hate writing in the first person, but now it’s almost like second nature to him. He likes connecting his readers with the pain of someone’s life. He wants someone to understand what it is like to feel emotions like that. Maybe that’s why no will ever read them; maybe they are too sad and real. His undergrad writing advisor loved his work, but maybe she was just being nice. Maybe just maybe.  


There are a lot of maybes in Tyson’s life. Maybe if he stuck with business things would be better, maybe if he stayed in Canada things would be better, maybe if he didn’t take up a habit for bumming cigarettes things would be better, maybe if he didn’t get into the car things would be better. There are too many maybes to even start. And that’s why he writes.  


Tyson keeps a notebook next to him when he works. He likes to take down people’s actions, their conversations, their appearances. It helps with his writing. He has found that it makes his writing real like you could know this person in real life. It was something his first fiction writing professor taught him. He hasn’t stopped since.  


The page in his notebook for the day consists of the college-aged girls today, two elderly tourists that talk about their grandson they came to visit, but he is too busy with school to see them. They had told Tyson that they decided to come up to Portland since they can’t find much to do in Corvallis. Tyson’s been down there once, so he understands, he took a look at their MFA program but never got in. The others in his notebook are a couple that took a walk during their lunch break, a man with a giant beard, a person with patches on their jean jacket, and a mother that came in to see if she can find a picture book for the toddler on her arm.  


There is also one other person. A guy, a hot guy that comes in with a camera. He wanted to take pictures of the place, but not like most people. He asked before taking pictures which was rare for Tyson. Almost no one ever asks if they can. He told Tyson that he is snapping pictures of places that will let him. He is collecting bookshops in the Portland area for like a blog post or some shit. Which Tyson finds cool. He’s nice; he told Tyson that he just moved to the area, that he is crashing with a friend from college. That he just got here from Denver.  


Tyson liked his look. The brown shirt that he is almost sure is a dark green but hell if he knows. An army looking jacket, black jeans, and what he can only assume are brown combat boots. Honestly, it is a look. It’s very Portland for a guy who has only been here a few weeks. He’s handsome from his beard to the orangy hair that flops a little. He looks good. Tyson also likes how he says his name, but Tyson never got his.


	2. Chapter 2

_‘He stops at the window with a puff of his cigarette as he watches the morning traffic move by. He’s done this since he has moved in. The coffee from the day before sits on the window seal, he forgot to wash it out. It’s just another thing he adds to his list. His never-ending list because he forgets to even make it._

_So many things to do and so little time. His naps that last for hours on end really cut into his chore time. It’s just he does one thing and it tires him out for the whole day. He gets winded doing dishes for fuck’s sake. Doing laundry is a whole day event these days. Forget going to the grocery store if his day isn’t clear. Everything takes too long now.’_

Tyson crosses it out before having to help a customer. His joints creak as he walks up the stairs. He rarely walks up to the second story of the shop, but his coworker is busy with another customer, so Tyson has to go up the stairs. He knows he is going to have to stretch out before he goes to bed or he will be sore tomorrow. It’s just another constant these days.

He sits back at the register once he’s done. He rubs his knee wishing for it to feel better. The soreness is just something he lives with now, he always will. The pain in his pelvis and knee is one of the recurring characters in his writing. It’s what he knows, and damn it does he know it well.

There are a lot of things Tyson knows. He knows that you don’t use an umbrella when it is raining, or they will know you’re not a real Oregonian. That when you want coffee don’t go to Starbucks, you try to find some hole in the wall around the city. That if you want a good cider, you drink Two Towns or Avid. It’s only acceptable to be caught with a Coors if you’re still in university. That you can find a smoke shop almost anywhere in Oregon. And that no matter how sore you will be later you must take at least one early morning hike.

He also knows that writing calms his nerves. That studying business can get boring. That it’s okay to be unsure of where you will be in six months. That if you have an upset teenager on your hands, you try to figure out what’s wrong. That it’s Rose City or die. That if you really want to have a fun day you sit behind the goal of a Thorns game. That if you do go to Seattle and don’t have a good time you don’t talk about it. That if it is raining and 18 degrees (65) it is shorts weather. And Voodoo is a staple even if it is overrated.

One thing he doesn’t know is the name of the man that keeps frequenting the shop. He’s nicer than anyone that has come in. He has had all these questions about the shop and how long it’s been open. He talks about how unique and special the place is. He says that the vibe of the place is amazing. He does take a few pictures of the place whenever he comes in. They are mostly of the books he is getting, and others are pictures of him sitting with a stack of books.

His smile is also something that Tyson can’t get passed. The man seems genuinely happy every time he comes in. It’s one thing that could brighten up Tyson’s day if it isn’t going well. The man tries to cover his smile when he chuckles with some of the people he brings in. Just knowing he is smiling under it gets Tyson to smile.

Don’t get him started on his laugh that explodes out of him when Tyson tripped over a stack of books. It was cute, but the bruise on Tyson’s leg wasn’t. It was an ugly color for about a week before it started to fade. Tyson was so embarrassed after he fell but he was able to brush himself off and fake a laugh for the cutie.

There is just something about the man that gets him. He isn’t sure if it’s his smile, laugh, or the little waves that stick out from under his beanie. Every time he sees him in the beanie all Tyson wants to do is yank it off to look at the soft waves that could probably cover his eyes if he would let them.

Tyson may not know the man’s name, but he knows that he is grateful for the guy that published the photos of the bookshop because he wouldn’t have this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't think any of my chapters will be long for this fic. It just feels right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of suicide, but it's not Tyson. Just a character he is writing. Also drugs for a character he is writing.

_‘A pack would usually last me a week before getting taken out by a Honda Civic, but now a pack last maybe two days. I used to say I was only a smoker if I bought a pack but then again, I was seventeen then. I remember hiding my packs on the top shelf in my closet since mom couldn’t reach it. She never did find the pack that I kept there when I left for university. I can’t imagine what she would have done if she knew._

_I don’t know what she would do if she found out today. Would she blame herself for the pack she kept in her purse? She rarely smoked so I would take a cigarette when she wasn’t looking. At the time my peers were stealing twenties from their mother’s purse while I was stealing cigarettes. She was never home me to smell it on me either. It was just her and me for so many years._

_I wonder if she has stopped. I haven’t asked when I call every second Tuesday. Our conversations never last any longer than hello, how are you, how’s the weather, and how’s David. I don’t have anything to say to her or David. I don’t have anything to say to anyone.’_

Tyson closes his notebook when wavy hair walks in the shop. He has a girl with him this time. She smiles at Tyson when the man whispers in her ear. Tyson has to force a smile back to her. This isn’t the first-time wavy hair has brought in a girl, and he is sure it won’t be his last. Tyson is almost sure they are all dates. He always has a hand on the girls back, always touching them, always whispering something to them. Tyson can’t lie and say he doesn’t wish it was him, but this is what happens when you get a crush on a straight guy.

The girl asks Tyson if he can grab a book on one of the higher shelves for them. Today he can’t. The cold weather has taken a toll on the metal joints in his body, so he is stuck with his trusty cane. He has to have a co-worker help them. He does notice the pity in both of their eyes when he walks to grab Amanda. He hates the way they go between him and the cane, just eying it like they want to ask but out of politeness they don’t. He wouldn’t tell them if they were bold enough to ask.

It isn’t long before the girl leaves, but Waves sticks around. He sits in the corner of the shop with a book in hand. It isn’t unusual for him to do that, but it is unusual for him to stare at Tyson this much. There are a few times when he catches the man staring, and he just ducks his head. Tyson wishes he could tell if the man turns pink, but his stupid eyes won’t.

The shop has died down a bit, so Tyson goes back to writing.

_‘The only person I talk to is Lucas; he stops by every Wednesday and Saturday to make sure I haven’t killed myself. We sit on the couch and drink a few beers, and I smoke a cigarette or two while he complains about his girlfriend. I have only met her once. All I know about her is that they met while she was working as a barista after she fled home. I’m not really sure what that is about but what I am sure about is her addiction to her blue hair and cocaine.’_

He was interrupted by the sound of a chair dragging across the floor. It’s Waves, who is making his way towards him. He stops right in front of Tyson smiling wider than he has ever seen. “Hi.” He says.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“Tyson.”

“Tyson, I like it.” He says before he starts to walk towards the door.

“Wait, what’s yours?”

“Dante.” He says before opening the door.

Dante, he likes the sound of that.


	4. Chapter 4

There is a familiar face that comes into the shop. It took a minute for Tyson to recognize who it is, but it’s the man that took pictures of the place. He wants to thank him because he now has Dante. Dante who is kind to him, who is sweet, who is amazing, who doesn’t think of him as some loser. Dante is better than he could have asked for.

Tyson has only been on three dates with him, but he is great. He took him to a brewery that he likes. Tyson didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t like the beer. Dante then took him to this comedy club which was great, but he did have to take a bus back to Beaverton since he wouldn’t take him home. It’s fine. The latest place they went is this coffee place that his friend runs. The coffee was good, but the muffin was overpriced. Tyson is taking him to this burger place, Tilt. He has only eaten there once before, but he really liked it then.

Dante is really the first guy that has taken an interest in him since college. All the other guys have mostly just been there for a hump and dump which doesn’t always work for him. It can be tricky for him if he isn’t in the right position. He’s learned what’s right and what’s wrong after a little bit of research and asking a doctor. It’s nice cause Dante doesn’t seem to mind the hesitation.

The place has been busy most of the day until about now. It’s perfect timing for the man with the camera. He asks if he can take pictures of the place again. He looks at Tyson ever so often and smiles. It is a little awkward and crooked, but nice. Maybe not as nice as Dante’s but still nice.

Since the place is dead Tyson takes it upon himself to write.

_‘ I can’t explain it. I have no words for the feeling inside. I have never felt more alive in my life. I feel like the second coming of Jesus. It’s like I am flying in blue skies. It’s like I am soaring over the ocean. I’m free. I’m alive.’_

He stops when there is a click of a camera causing Tyson to jump. “Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The man in front of him says.

“It’s okay.”

“Your name is Tyson, right?” He asks with a smile.

“Yeah.”

The man shifts awkwardly before asking, “Can I take a picture of you writing?”

“Sure.”

Just like that Tyson pretends like he’s writing something while this man takes pictures of him. It’s weird, but he isn’t about to tell him no. He feels like he owes the photographer something for bringing him, Dante.

The man only snaps a few photos before showing them to Tyson. They look as good as Tyson could ever look. He leaves right after that and Tyson still hasn’t got his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this when I should have been focusing on a draft for a short story I need to class tomorrow. It still isn't finished and I remembered that I had an assignment due tonight about an hour ago so... time to hang out in the library for the rest of the night. Also, a big important thing that I am putting here if yall don't follow my Tumblr I am getting back into writing fics, but my posting of chapters/ fics won't be on the regular. My classes and the project loads are a bitch this term, so nothing is going to be regular.
> 
> All of this is also why this fic won't have long chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

Tyson finally found out the name of the photographer after he asked Dante what the article he read about the place. The guy's name is Joseph Taylor which he isn't sure if that's his first and last name or if it's like two first names. He doesn't really care what his name is, but he does care that he brought him, Dante. He did read his other blog posts about places in Portland. Tyson found a great sushi place to take Dante and an amazing thrift shop that he may or may not go to once a week. 

There is this pizza place that Tyson wants to take Dante, but he hasn't been able to. Dante has been busy with work recently, so he hasn't spent much time with Tyson. Every time Tyson asks if he wants to hang out he's always doing something which he understands. His work his important to him. 

Tyson doesn't mind being at home by himself all the time. He's been busy reading over a few stories of the kids in his workshop. A couple of them wants some feedback on their stories before they send them in for a contest. He is always amazed by the kids; they are all such fantastic writers. If he can be half of what they are when they are his age, Tyson would be a happy guy. Reading their work challenges him to be a better writer. It challenges him for all of his submissions.

He hasn't written much recently well he hasn't written for the latest story he started. He has gone back to doing revisits of a short story so he can submit it to a journal before the end of the month. He's been thinking about using that story to apply to MFA programs again, but he doesn't know if it is worth trying again. If he did, he would probably have to leave Portland which he likes too much. He as just got Dante, so he doesn't want to let him go.

Dante has been good for him. He's the first man to make him feel safe in a long time. He is the blessing that his mother has been talking about and Tyson believes her. He is a keeper like she also told him after she spoke with him and Dante on the phone. Apparently, she has been telling everyone that Tyson is finally feeling good again. And she is right about that.

Tyson's happy with Dante, and he's sure that Dante is happy with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, it's been a minute, hasn't it. I got super busy with classes which is the story of my life. Funny to think my last chapter was written when the draft for my last short story was due because I just finish the 'final' draft for a different short story for the same class. (We are writing and submitting stories every two weeks.) 
> 
> Sorry for a really short chapter, but I finally know where I am going to take this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is writing about Tyson and nicotine usage. If you weren't aware everyone has been aged up a couple of years.

Tyson hasn't seen Dante much. He's been working long hours, or that's what Dante has told him. It's been hard to get him on the phone and to text hasn't been much better. It's getting lonely, but Tyson been working away on his short story. He's been workshopping it with a few colleagues who also work for the kids' workshop. They've like it and have helped with the pacing of the story which has helped a lot. It's not close to being done, but he wants to apply to MFA programs with this story. It's been hard, but he wants to get it done and working with published authors should help him. 

 

He hasn't told Dante about it since he's been hard to talk to. In the past month Tyson maybe seen him four times and talked to him on the phone three times. He knows Dante is busy, but this is getting ridiculous. He just wants to talk to his boyfriend, but his boyfriend is never available. Tyson guesses he is going to have to deal with it. He wants Dante to stick around. He wants him to be there for him when he needs it, but that's not happening. Tyson knows that he shouldn't depend on Dante and he doesn't. He barely knows him, and that's one of the hardest parts.

 

He knows that Dante is from BC, that he used to play, that has a paid internship with a marketing company, that he's twenty-two, that he loves his family, that he like him, and that Dante doesn't care that he's got a bad body. Dante doesn't care about the scares that cover his body. He doesn’t care that Tyson has a knee that doesn’t let him hike as long as Dante wants to. Dante just likes him.

 

Dante liking him is hard to believe now since he hasn’t talked to him. It’s hard to believe that he has a boyfriend when they aren’t talking. It's hard to believe anything when Tyson hasn’t seen him for weeks. When he last saw Dante, he got mad cause Tyson didn’t want to go out for dinner. All Tyson wanted to do was call in for pizza cause his hip was giving him hell. Dante got mad, so they went out. When they got back, Tyson had to put a heating pad on his hip. Dante wasn't there to understand the pain he felt. It seemed like he didn't care. 

That was probably two and a half weeks ago, maybe closer to three. He hasn't seen Dante since then, but its fine Tyson has been busy. Work has been busy; his life has been busy. Today has been busy.

 

Tyson slumps into his chair. The day has been long; it was like there were tours of Portland's bookstores today because of all these people coming through the shop. The store has finally died down, and Tyson can’t wait until he can close up for the day. He’s getting a chance to look over what he wrote before store got busy. 

 

_ ‘I’m nothing more than a numb vessel. I want to feel alive again, so I take another. I’m still numb. I take another. I don’t feel anything, so I take another. And another, and another and ...’ _

 

_ ‘Lights bright. Little voices. Buzzing. The light is so bright.’  _

 

Reading the lines over again he hates it. He crosses them out.

 

_ ‘I want to feel alive. I want to stop voices to stop; I want everything to stop. So I take another, then another, one more, and...’  _ He writes.

 

The bells of the door ring and Tyson half expects it to be another group of people, but it’s the photographer. He walks over to Tyson who is pretty sure is going to ask if he can take pictures, but Tyson stops him. “What’s your name?” He asks.

 

The photographer looks confused. “J.T.,” he tells him.

 

“If you are going to ask to talk pictures, just do it. You don’t have to ask,” Tyson says. 

 

“Oh okay.” J.T. smiles the moves through the shop. 

 

J.T., Tyson writes in his notebook. It fits him; it’s what he is. Joseph Taylor is J.T., and that works. Joseph Taylor reminds him of Jonathan Thomas his psych he had after the accident. His mother made him see him. She thought it would be good for him. She thought it would make him learn to hate his life less, but it didn’t. It helped him become addicted to nicotine. 

 

He started hating his life less once he came to Portland. He stopped smoking for the most part. Every once in a while he will give in and have a cigarette, but that’s on the really hard days. He hasn’t had one of those days in a while. It’s better that he doesn't.

 

J.T. comes back to the front of the shop. He gets a few shots of the entrance before going over to Tyson. “Every time I come in you’re always here.” J.T. starts, “Do they keep you chained to the store.”

 

Tyson laughs. “No, I get shocked if I try to leave.”

 

J.T. smiles, “How long have you worked here?”

 

“Almost a year.”

 

“Huh must be a nice gig then.”

 

“It is. It’s peaceful here.”

 

“Is it so peaceful that you wouldn’t want to leave to get a coffee with me.” J.T. looks away. Tyson wishes he could see the true of J.T. face but he can’t.

 

“I can’t right now. I get off at five.”

 

“I’ll stay in the area.”

 

“Okay,” Tyson says.

 

“See you then,” J.T. says before heading towards the door. Tyson offers a small wave before J.T. walks out.

 

He doesn’t know why he said yes, but he wants to. He wants to go. It would be the first person to show him any kind of attention in a while, and Tyson needs that. He figures there is no reason to tell Dante about this. It’s not like he would care.

 

Tyson goes back to writing.  _ ‘The beeping and the buzzing wakes me. The light is bright when I open my eyes. I’m alive.’ _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since I wrote for this. I don't have any excuses either, sorry. For anyone that cares and remember from the note in the last chapter, I got an A on my final short story. 
> 
> Also, I used my own colorblind experiences for Tyson. The whole not being able to see the color of J.T. face stems out of me not knowing when someone is red. Like I have such a hard time with that and I don't know why. Not sure it's because I'm colorblind or just stupid. (Think I talked about this somewhere)


	7. Chapter 7

It has just been one of those days for Tyson. He couldn’t get out the bed in the morning, so he calls in sick. It’s been what feels like forever ever since he’s had a day where it hurts to move. His hip has been giving him hell for a feel days so he should have seen this some coming. He should have don’t his stretches like he was supposed to be doing.

He texts Dante. He asks if he can come over since he now has the day off. After about thirty minutes of no response, he knows Dante won’t text him back any time soon.

He takes some pain killers then falls back asleep until around one pm when he stomach growls for him to get up. Tyson does his best to get to the kitchen. He makes two hot pockets and gets a glass of water before returning to his bed. He opens his laptop to watch a documentary on Netflix.

After killing his two hot pockets and his glass of water, the documentary comes to an end Tyson grabs for his notebook that sits next to his bed.

Dante texts him. He tells him that he is on his way to BC. That he is going to spend two weeks with his family. Tyson hasn’t seen him in probably three weeks now. He dropped by for a few hours three weeks ago, but nothing more than that.

He wants to break up with Dante. He really wants to break up with Dante. He’s not going to do it over text, so he just puts his phone away before he does anything stupid.

He writes aimlessly. A how-to story on how to break up with your boyfriend. It rough, but that’s how everything starts. He closes his notebook and slides under his blankets.

 

Tyson naps until his body hurt from laying down. It a little past six thirty by the time he figures he should get up. He looks at his phone to find a text from Dante and J.T. Dante is saying that he is sorry; he doesn’t text him back. J.T. asks if he wants to come out with him and a few friends tonight because one of their friends is playing at a bar. He texts him back telling him, sorry, but his hip hurts and he can’t.

One thing he didn’t expect is to get a phone call right away. Answer Tyson tries to pull the best I haven’t been napping for hours voice, “Hey.”

“Hey. What’s wrong with your hip? I stopped by the shop, and you weren’t there.” J.T. concerned, and Tyson knows it by the sound of his voice.

“It’s nothing. I called out sick because I couldn’t get out of bed,” Tyson explains.

“Dude do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay.” Tyson swings his legs over the edge of the bed so he can get up. When he tries, he just falls back on the bed, “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” J.T. rushes out.

“Nothing I’m fine,” Tyson says.

“No your not,” J.T. says, “I’m coming over.”

“J.T. seriously I will be fine. Go hang out with your friends.”

“Nope, not happening.”

Tyson knows he isn’t going to give up, so he sighs, “Fuck fine. You know where the spare is.”

“I will be there in a few.”

“See yah.” Tyson clicks off the phone. He falls back on his pillows and just groans. He isn’t about to get ready or J.T. He really doesn’t care if he sees him like this.

He lays in bed and scrolls through his phone until he ends up falling asleep again.

 

Tyson opens his eyes and almost screams. J.T is standing over him. He relaxes when he feels the hand in his hair. “Hey,” J.T. says.

“Hi,” Tyson mumbles.

“I brought food.” J.T. smiles down at him.

“Thanks.” Tyson sits up and tries to get up, but can’t.

J.T. grabs his hands, “Come on let's try again.”

Tyson does it again, but this time J.T. helps to pull him up. “Thanks.” J.T. lets go of his hands, and Tyson struggles a little to walk, but J.T. doesn’t try to help. He does hover a little, but it’s okay.

They walk into the living room, and Tyson takes a seat on the floor. J.T. looks at him but understands when Tyson starts to stretch out. Tyson knows he needs to get that done or he is going to be in even more pain later. He wants to be able to go to work tomorrow.

J.T. doesn’t say much as he stretches out. He tells Tyson about his day and all Tyson can do is just make small comments as he groans when stretching his hip. He knows this is for the best.

After about fifteen minutes of stretching Tyson calls it. He knows he should be doing more, but his stomach is growling. He is able to push himself up and onto the couch next to J.T. who already has the food sitting on the coffee table.

J.T. opens the bag to and Tyson’s mouth waters at the smell. “I got you beef mint noddle because you said you like them,” J.T. says handing over a box and a fork he must have got from the kitchen.

“Thanks.” Tyson smiles at him. He digs into his food, and he never knew anything could taste that good, “Thank you so much.”

“Couldn’t let you be alone.”

“Still thank you.”

“No problem bud,” J.T. says. Tyson turns on the tv and looks for something to watch, but can’t find anything that looks good. He tries to get up to grab his laptop from his room, but J.T. stops him, “What do you need?”

“Laptop; it’s in my room.” J.T. nods and gets up. He returns moments later with his laptop.

He wishes that the HDMI cable for the tv was broken so they could pull it up on TV, but it sadly is so they are going to have to watch something on the small screen. He pulls up Netflix and waits for it to load by checking his email. Tyson sees there is an email from a publication that he submitted a story too; it's probably another rejection. It’s always a rejection, but he opens it anyway.

Tyson's heart stops. _Congratulations, we would like to accept Burning Kisses for publication in our journal_. He places a hand over his mouth and tries to hold back his tears. He chocks on the noise that he is trying to hold in. J.T. places a hand on his knee, “Hey what’s wrong?” J.T. face is soft and worried.

“I just… I… they… Burning Kisses… J.T.” Tyson turns his laptop toward his friend.

He reads the first line, and his worried eyes turn bright. He grins and places the laptop on the coffee table. He pulls Tyson close, he holds him. “I’m so proud of you. So proud.” J.T. kisses his cheek. Tyson can feel himself burning up. “Tys this is amazing.” He kisses his cheek again, and it makes Tyson cry even more. He knows Tyson has never been published before.

“I can’t believe it.” J.T. wipes away his tear. J.T. continues to place kisses on cheeks.

“I’m so proud. Really Tys this is amazing.” J.T. smiles, “I’m glad I was here for it.”

“Me too.” Tyson smiles back.

“Do you want your phone so you can text Dante?”

Tyson shakes his head, “I’ll tell him later.”

Tyson won’t tell him at all. J.T. finds a movie to watch while Tyson is still riding this high. He figures he will email the publication back tomorrow. He wants to bask in this feeling for a little bit longer. He wants to feel this warmth for as long as possible.

The warmth of excitement. The warmth of happiness. The warmth of J.T. holding him close. Holding tight; not want to let him go. Holding him like he is his and Tyson wishing he was his. Dante has never held him like this.

He isn’t sure if it is cheating. Hell, he doesn’t really care. He wants to break up with him, and this is just the hump he needed to get over to get there. He wants it to be over. Hell, it doesn’t feel like there is really something to get over. It’s like Dante was never really there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute. I was just really in a writing mood today and I knew I need to get this out.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see. It's two am and I am wired so I am writing what I know. Come follow me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mari999-ao3) it will explain why I have been absent from writing and it will also give updates for when I do write.


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